


Come Spring

by Shatterpath



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F, Femslash Big Bang Monthly Challenge, Jousting, Slow Romance, Subtext, Swordplay, Tournaments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-09-27 13:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10022378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: In a world of magic and strange destinies, what could the link between them truly mean?The continuing adventures of Alex and Lena in a wildly different setting!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'd tapped out the first three paragraphs of the early days of my Alex/Lena obsession and forgotten about it. Then I stumbled over the femslashbigbang February prompt of 'strangers' and everything clicked. First draft was written in about five hours and a special shout out to Pink Funhouse Live in Australia for being the perfect music for the muses.
> 
> I was inspired by the Lord of the Rings trilogy and Hidalgo for the Horse People. I like the contrast to the European inspired people of the story's setting.
> 
> On a personal note, I'm delighted that this special piece is my 350th work on AO3! -tosses confetti- On to 400!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a thrill in combat, in the strike of steel on steel and Alex knows it well. Could the connection with a stranger be equally as thrilling?

Spring was slowly breaking its iron hold on the ancient lands. Plow horses shook themselves out and prepared for another season of cracking the softening ground for seed, traders prepared to circulate their wares, and migratory birds began returning from distant lands.

And before the time of planting arrived, the population was eager for some healthy sport and a means to connect to the neighbors and friends separated by the ice and snow.

And that meant a Tournament.

There would be food and drink and the grand gatherings that kept the kingdom a cohesive whole, highlighted by the finest warriors coming together with lance and sword. The populace loved it, shaking the last of the winter from their bones, letting them reconnect with distant companions and strike up new connections.

But the knights were the best part, the armored warriors gleaming in the spring sunlight, astride their noble steeds, the ring of lance and sword.

Queen Eliza could rest assured her endlessly restless Royal Heir would be occupied for a month or so during preparations. It was a rare respite and offset the constant fractiousness between mother and daughter. While Alex had always been her father's daughter, she was more like her mother than she wanted to admit.

"Alex!" Kara wailed dramatically as she fled down the hallway towards her sister's chambers. Mother did not care for the shortened name, but Kara could get away with it. Kara could get away with nearly anything.

"Enough with the theatrics!" Alex yelled, an edge of irritation threading her voice. Her nerves were already on edge as much from tournament preparations as the endless pomp and scrutiny she had once again been forced to endure. She'd face a legion alone and poorly armed before she would accept the rigors of her lofty position gracefully.

At least she was able to dress comfortably once more. The frippery was the worst part of being a princess. That and the marrying politics.

Kara nearly tripped into Alex's room, face flushed and utterly disheveled. "There are royals everywhere! What do I do?"

Grabbing her sister's shoulders, Alex did her best to shake some sense into her, though in this mood, it was like shaking an ancient oak tree. Or a mountain. Her origins from a land too far away for the Central Kingdoms to have any knowledge of were so magic heavy that they were as alien to these mostly mundane lands as breathing water. However, the strange magical people were discretely welcome in the Danvers Kingdom, Kara herself adopted by the royal family. Alex had always suspected that Kara had been brought into the family to calm her wildest impulses, to teach her the value of protection and bond her to another soul for balance.

It had worked. With a full-bodied hug, they were of one mind once more, like sun and moon. 

"Go change, and quickly! If we're late, I'll be as angry as Mother!"

One benefit of a magical sibling were the astonishing powers. Faster than the eye could track, Kara was changed and Alex squeaked as she was roughly laced into her jerkin and a luxurious, warm cloak tossed around her shoulders. Then they were off at a run on swift feet. If not for Kara's defiance of the very pull of the earth to lighten her steps and help her hoist some of Alex's weight, they never would have slid into position on either side of the Queen in time.

"Good to see you, girls," she sighed and raised both arms for the attention of the milling crowd. In moments, they stilled and gave her their full attention. "Let the tournament begin!"

A vassal slinked in close enough for Alex to grab the bouquet of roses and evergreen boughs to toss to the crown as was custom. After a scuffle for the prize, the crowd began to break up to file past the faire stalls to the tournament stadium. King Jeremiah had built the grand structure to celebrate his love of the sport, one handed down to his daughter.

Bumping through the excited crowd like dandelion fluff in the wind, the sisters were distracted by the scent of fresh bubbly pies and roasting meat. Kara whined pathetically, forever starving from an appetite as great as her strength. Just as Alex had done since she was a small, wiry child, just as she had taught Kara when they were lanky adolescents growing closer, the sisters stole stacks of the little pocket pies. The well-loved old baker had been putting up with their shenanigans for years now and obliged them with a scowl and a raised fist that sent them off with impish grins, pleased with their childish mischief.

He knew the beauties by their smiles, by the circlets they wore as crowns, each with a stone set at the third eye. Kara as the adopted daughter, wore a flawless sapphire the color of her eyes, unlike the sacred Soulstone bonded to Alex, as rare as she was herself. 

Faces smeared with berries, they were hardly dignified royals, Alex complained of the burn of the filling, Kara laughing at her, immune to the heat and sighing longingly for more even as she was dragged off by the front of her tunic.

"If you weren't forever late," Jon thundered at the girls when they came tripping into the stables, nearly going sprawling. "You would have time for food and games! Now get moving."

Sufficiently chastised by their teacher and master at arms, the girls quickly cleaned up and shrugged into the protective padding that would protect their hides from the heavy armor that came next. Opposite of the finely worked gold circlet that clung to her skin, Alex's armor was brightly silvered, shining like treasure in the sun. Kara's had been plated in a brassy sheen in contrast to the silver that held her own Soulstone to her skin

As always, the gear was impeccably clean and well-maintained, for while Kara was a great many flighty things, her dedication was never in question. And for all her dramatics in acting as Alex's squire, she would do anything her sister asked.

While Alex much preferred her ordinary armor and tunic with its earthy colors and heat-blued steel, she knew the mirrored shine of her formal plate was a visual statement in line with her rank and importance. A colorful surcoat and a trail of feathers from the grandiose helm were the finishing touches before dagger and belt were strapped on over it, spurs clipped in and a dancing Maximilian brought over, already resplendent in his own armor and colors.

"Come on, boy," she grunted with the effort to haul herself up the enormous dapple grey charger's barrel ribs, nearly going tumbling when Kara shoved too hard. Max danced and huffed and carried on, increasing the sheer indignity of it all, but Alex found her seat and slapped his neck as hard as she could. The stallion was as fraught with dramatics as Kara, but he was smart, far more agile than his bulk might suggest and had a mean, devious streak as wide as the sea. Useful traits in a warhorse.

Hurried and wanting an outlet for the fluttering of nerves in her belly, Alex gave Max his head to thunder wildly down the stables, grooms scattering, their combined mass shaking the stones as they burst into the sunlight. 

As much as Alexandra might squirm and balk at the attention on her, on the weight of her position given by an accident of birth, hearing the loyal people of her lands scream her name was a rush equaled only by the charge of battle and flying with her sister.

"Showoff," Kara chuckled as her placid old mule plodded up beside them and she waved to the crowd, who yelled for her as well. After a circle of the jousting lawn, they fell back to the business at hand. With practiced motions, they strapped on the shield and had the long lance crammed down snugly over Alex's right hand before Max pranced over to the long fence that would separate the combatants as they charged. 

There was a level of mental game to this as much as physical, and Alex was a master of it. She wrapped practiced calm about her, translated that to Max though hands and legs until he was still, quivering for action as an arrow nocked to bow. Then the blast of trumpet had them loose, a thunder of violence aimed on that knobby, steel point whose sole purpose was to unseat their opponent.

It was rare that Alexandra crashed to the earth.

Relishing the roar of the crowd and violent reverberation down the lance just as much as the stink of sweat and the sun baking her in the shiny steel, Alex unseated opponent after opponent. While the attendants dragged off the fallen and caught their loose steeds, Alex pulled the helm off and gasped, drinking in what seemed like as much water and air as Max's great bulk.

High sun brought on temperatures very unlike the winter just passed. It was fatiguing but bracing to feel the liveliness of the day. The blaze of sunshine and the barely restrained violence made Alex feel more alive than anything in her life and she was giddy, drunk with it. Soaked from skin to steel, she shook herself out and smacked Maximilian when his nose grew too friendly. 

"Who is left?"

Kara paused where she was examining the lances with various winces. "I'm surprised the trumpets haven't signaled your victory yet. You've been rough as a boar today."

Making a rude noise that would have earned a cold glare from her mother, Alex waved off the comment. "Then these pompous asses should give me something of a challenge!"

As though conjured by the words, a strange horn blew nearby, drawing everyone's attention to the great gate opposite the stables where a colorful riot of person and horse poured regally into the tournament stadium.

"The Horse People?" Kara marveled and sidled over to Alex's side, always nervous of strangers that might notice her otherworldliness. "What are they doing here?"

Any reply was lost in the Queen's amplified voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. "Greetings, our allies from the Southern Lands. You honor us with your presence."

There was a ripple of movement in the ranks of light-bodied horses so distinctive to the Southern Lands, the riot of brightly colored fabrics on person and horse alike making the movement akin to a curtain drawn back. And from their midst rode a strikingly resplendent knight. No matter the silk woven over the acid-blackened armor or the characteristic onion-shaped helmet, the body language was unmistakable. 

"What is a Northern knight doing in Southern silk?" Alex wondered and Kara shook her head, just as baffled.

"The mount is a hybrid," Kara noted of the knight's horse, larger and heavier then the light desert animals around her. "She shows the muscle and heft of our heavy breeds, but also the distinctive dished face and long legs of the desert horses. Must be someone of extreme importance for the tribes to allow a mating like that. Interesting."

It was an understatement, for the Horse People valued their hoofed kin as their most valued treasures. The mare wore plate only on her head and chest, the rest a glossy reptilian skin that peeked amidst restless banners of the woven silks that trailed long and loose at the ends. Those would be a terrible distraction to Max and Alex knew it.

"I am Leaf-Eye of the Tribes of the Furnace Sands," rang out a woman's voice from the mounted figure, rich and low. "I ask your permission to participate in the tournament."

It was an unprecedented move from the Southerners. For generations they had been mostly quiet trading partners, wanting little to do with Northern culture and traditions and vice versa. 

"Guess I'm not the only foreigner to be adopted far from home," Kara said softly, clearly enormously curious who the woman in the black armor was. "Something about her seems familiar…"

"Of course," the Queen said graciously and gestured to the field. "Be welcome at our games."

With a sure hand, the mysterious Leaf-Eye brought her striking warmblood to the line, both of them as calm as a frozen lake.

"This ought to be interesting," Alex muttered as she dragged herself up Max's towering side once more. Even though fatigued from their day, the pair had experience and height on the black mare and her rider. Lance and shield appeared, helms were adjusted, horses shifted their weight until the trumpet sounded.

In a fury of hoof beats the horses thundered towards one another, bearing the lance tips closer and closer. Alex kept her eye on the blunt tip with its spikes meant to dig in and unseat, memorized its nervous waver, and foolishly let her guard down.

The agonizing punch rocked her back violently, shiny armor shrieking for mercy as the lance tip skittered over shield and chestplate, only Max's surprised sidestep keeping his rider in the saddle. It had been a long time since Alex had been hit so hard and she gasped inside her helm. 

She would not underestimate the stranger again.

Well trained, Max trotted to the line where the silent Southern people waited. At the far end, Jon replaced the shattered business end of Leaf-Eye's lance while Kara stared at her in clear puzzlement. Then the horn blasted and the combatants were off once more. Better prepared for a rare opponent that was more brains than arrogance, Alex waited until the last moment to bring her lance exactly to bear. Even as the black knight's weapon whistled past her ear, Alex's blow landed perfectly against the shield, painted in desert colors. But somehow, Leaf-Eye flinched and angled the shield just right to send the blow over her shoulder. 

Now Alex was fired up. By the challenge, by the mystery, by the possibility of losing to this stranger. Irritated, she practically threw the broken lance into Kara's arms. Down the lane, the black mare tossed her head, no longer so calm, and the rider shrugged off a companion's hand angrily. So she too was affected by the dual close calls.

"Alex, I…" 

"Not now, Kara!" she snarled, in no mood for the fretting, and accepted a new lance from Jon. Max was tired and stood stolidly at the line, a beat off when released to run. Maybe it was their creeping exhaustion, maybe the mystery knight had a gift for the sport, but when they collided that third time, the crash of iron tip to steel armor knocked both from their saddles.

Winded, Alex took a moment to regain her senses, ears ringing deafeningly and bones vibrating to the hit she could still feel. It had definitely been too long since she had been unseated, and longer still, so violently. She could feel the dent pressing painfully near her heart. In battle, a blow like that would have killed her outright.

Kara collapsed to her knees beside her sister, mouth moving but the words incomprehensible. Barely containing her magical strength, the blonde yanked Alex to unsteady feet even as her eyes and ears began to clear.

"Come on, Alex! This isn't over yet!"

With a wild swipe of her long sword yanked in a sweeping arch from its scabbard, Alex only just parleyed Leaf-Eye's running lunge. Using the other woman's momentum against her, Alex shoved as hard as she could. The ungraceful sprawl gave Alex a moment to rip off her helm and gauntlets, cursing the heavy armor as she backpedaled to give herself some room. 

Barely staying on the grass long enough to flatten it, Leaf-Eye was rolling to her feet and pulling off her own helm. Long, dark hair tumbled free, green ribbons tangled amidst the strands. Her face was mostly obscured by a veil that winked with tiny jewels, a thin thread drawing the diaphanous material high over her nose to vanish into that dark hair. Her skin was pale, too pale to be of the Southern folk, and her eyes were indeed a striking shade of green like fresh grass poking up through a winter-brown field. 

"So, come on then, Princess," the deep, rich voice taunted and Alex felt her temper flare. Doubtlessly the magics inherent to the Soulstone bonded to her at birth flashed with hot color in response to her emotions. Having her feelings quite literally broadcast across her face had always been a mixed blessing for Alex.

Neither combatant held back, charging one another to spring apart with the ring of steel. The curved blade in Leaf-Eye's hand sparked over shiny armor and avoided getting caught up in the chainmail protecting Alex's shoulder joint. In contrast, Alex landed a good hit higher on the shoulder, her straight blade skittering up the curve of breastplate and making Leaf-Eye spin away to save her neck and ear.

It became a flurry of blows as they danced across the grass, the crowd screaming in excitement. Alex was stronger and possibly faster, but she was tired. Both were quick on their feet and the combat would have been quite deadly on the battlefield. Surcoats grew tattered despite the dulled tournament swords, the force of blows traded having torn heavy fabric and scarred armor. 

Alex hadn't had so much fun in years, relishing being pushed so hard, every muscle screaming in agony, her eyes burning with sweat and throat so dry she might as well have been standing in the desert the Southerners hailed from. It was her fatigue that gave the stranger the upper hand at last, Alex's sword ripping away the tattered silk from Leaf-Eye's torso even as she was slammed to the grass.

Too exhausted to stand, Alex slapped the ground twice, granting the stranger victory. But there was no cheer, no chorus of groans from the crowd, only a stunned silence. Rolling over, she squinted at her victorious opponent and immediately saw why.

That coat of arms had not been seen in these lands in a long time. The serpent and wheel, the gear and downthrust sword that too often had brought dishonorable death to so many. And the last Luthor, the daughter lost years ago when her family fell, stood with her sword at Alex's throat.

Even Kara was frozen. 

In those tense heartbeats, Alex saw the green eyes soften, desperate for something unspoken. It was that desperation and the honor of the deadly blow held back that had the royal heir raising a hand to halt the advance of her protective kinsmen. The curved sword moved away and Alex accepted the offer of a helping hand from her opponent. Wearily regaining her feet, she did her best to straighten up and look as dignified as possible while vanquished and peppered with torn grass.

"You've won, Leaf-Eye of the tribes of the Furnace Sands, and earned a boon from the Royal House of Danvers. What do you seek?"

There was a long moment, green eyes searching brown, before the lost heir of her ancient and dishonored house swallowed hard. "I ask only a chance to redeem my name, left behind in these lands."

Eliza watched in silent fascination as her eldest negotiated the tricky situation. So often Alexandra fought and balked at her station, with little patience for diplomacy, for tradition, for formality. Yet, here she stood, hands still clasped with her opponent, caught up in the dignity of the moment.

"And your name?"

The question was surprisingly gentle and Leaf-Eye swallowed hard enough the spectators could see the nervous movement. With a shaking hand, she reached up to pull away the veil, revealing a singular beauty that rivaled her stunning eyes.

"Lena. Last of the House of Luthor."

There was a murmur of shock and outrage in hundreds of throats, stifled by the royal heir's imperiously raised hand.

For a moment, Alex merely stood there and searched the summer green gaze with her own earth-dark eyes, the color of rich, fertile soil. She knew the stories of the Luthor family, had seen the terrible scars left on the bodies and souls of the people caught up in that madness, but she had also heard stories of this woman. Barely in her adolescence, she had vanished without a trace, assumed dead. Survivors had spoken fondly of the girl, the bastard child of their ruthless overlord.

Perhaps some good could come from Lionel's line after all.

"Your boon is granted. May you and your kin be welcomed in my house."

The buzz of the crowd grew louder, a restless hive of noise full of confusion and curiosity, laced with malice. Only then did Alex finally release the hand she'd been gripping, the clasp of fingers and palms warm and solid. With a quirk of her engaging, crooked grin, she gestured over the colorful crowd of Horse People to approach even as the spectators began to flow from the stands like water from a leaky vessel.

Alex was wracking her mind for the greeting in their language, too many lessons barely remembered in her disaffection with her position. Some hint of that must have shown on her face because Lena spoke up in the lyrical, guttural language of the desert peoples, the lead figure responding and then chuckling. It gave Kara, still wide-eyed, a moment to whisper the words into Alex's ear.

However, the greeting was breathless and Alex stumbled, caught by Kara's strong arms and Lena's hand pressed to her chest. "The dent," she wheezed and grunted in pain when Kara had to briefly tighten the buckles before the front and back halves of the torso armor gaped open at the sides. Instantly, Alex breathed easier even as it was clear she was still hurting. "A worthy hit," she complimented the victor with a smile, earning a startled look. "It's been a long time since I was so effectively unhorsed."

"You're bleeding," Kara whispered in a horrified tone and Alex blinked in surprise. Indeed, there was a red stain seeping into the white sleeve of her shirt, revealed by the gape in the armor.

"Huh. So I am. It's probably nothing serious, but I'll go to Jon regardless. Leaf-Eye, may I offer you and yours a paddock for the horses?"

Mutely, Lena nodded, her expression still a bit like she had been hit in the head too hard. Kara spoke to the Horse People in a near-perfect dialect and they fell in behind the princesses like a colorful honor guard. Alex was once again grateful for her sister's gift with nearly anything she put her mind to, because the language was gibberish to her and she regretted that now.

A guardswoman had managed to get her hands on Max and he glowered and postured at the strange horses in his domain as he was led to the stables. The black mare in contrast had fallen in with her herd with perfect obedience, despite being riderless. 

"She's a beauty," Alex complimented quietly and once again Lena jumped as though surprised. After a moment, she half turned to speak in that low, clear voice, and whickered very convincingly. Half the horses spoke back, but only the black moved forward to greet her person.

"Her name is Ravens-Storm," Lena introduced the big mare with somber formality and the princesses paused to nod respectfully. Because the people of the north did not share the same role of equality with their horses did not mean that the southern way was any less. It was simply different, and the Danvers family had remained in power in part because they celebrated and respected differentness. 

In a flurry of activity, nobles and diplomats arrived to greet the Southerners. It was a real relief to see James among them, pleased to see the colors of the peoples who neighbored the lands of his ancestors. 

The pain of the tournament was setting in now and Alex needed to tend to that immediately. In the flurry of those tasks, the mystery of the leaf-eyed Lena slipped to the back of her mind. 

But did not leave it.

 

TBC? We shall see...


	2. Spring Can Still Feel Of Winter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding the source of what had drawn her so powerfully across endless leagues, Lena finds things are not quite as she thought they would be. A stranger to all she once knew, can she find a home once more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, probably not portrayed very clearly by myself in the first part of this story is that the Danvers sisters are only teenagers of 16 and a halfish and riiiiiiight at the edge of 18. It fits this sort of medieval-like setting and lets me take a different look at familiar characters. So, just think of all the cute, baby-faced pictures of Chyler before and during the early days of Grey's Anatomy and you'll have a good mental image.
> 
> Much of the rules of the Soulstones and their magics are being made up as I go along. Feel free to ask questions or yell if I get confusing! ;D
> 
> The part of Far-Eye will be played by Gal Godot. _Indented_ dialog is the Horse People's native tongue.

Dreams that were more magic than the mind's fancy had led her back to the lands of her birth. Back to her ancestral name and the shame that had never left her.

It was no wonder it had taken her so many years to make this step.

Jittery with battle nerves and revealing herself to the people of her homeland, Lena nearly jumped out of her skin when Far-Eye clapped her shoulder.

" _Well done, little sister! For all the tales of the Heir's battle prowess, you beat her handily!_ "

" _And that is terrifying in itself!_ "

The others of the traveling party found that amusing, but part of Lena was petrified. What royal would celebrate being beaten? And so publicly? Still, no matter Far-Eyes' loyal teasing, it had been no easy victory. Even at the end of a long tournament, the princess had been a brutal opponent. Without that battle fatigue, she would have kept her boon.

After a lifetime of dreams that taught her so much, the culmination of them had left Lena shaken. When she had only been an imp of only four years, a life she barely remembered was ripped away from her, she was sent away with a man she found vaguely familiar to live with his family… and the dreams had begun. They began as little more than strange, hazy images and sounds that coalesced gradually into faces and voices.

And the Soulstone mounted low on her sternum reflected emotions not just her own.

By the time Lena was ten, she was an accomplished little play fighter, rumpusing about the castle with her brother Alexander in endless mock battles. She was not allowed to actually train, Mother frowned on it, on the childish games, on any sort of joy in the dreary halls and chambers. Yet, Lena steadily learned the ways of warfare through the vivid dreams.

Then Lex had lost his grasp on all that was good and sane and plunged the ancestral lands of Luthor into bloody war. Father, then brother fell with the blood of thousands on their hands. Mother took cold refuge in the castle and watched at the countryside burned all around them. Somehow Lena escaped her grasp and fled with the shouts of the enemy loud and close in her ears. Too close.

Her dreams were vivid in her memories, told her to keep her head down, move with quick intent but not to run and call attention to herself. She stole food and warm clothing and a few baubles, knowing in her gut that she would not be back. 

With her father's best warhorse restrained with nothing more than a rope flung around his belly and neck to keep her on his back, she pressed him to run. With the power of the Soulstone fueling her panic, days and nights passed until the great black horse could simply go no further. Windbroken and spent, they found themselves in a sea of sand, the living green a distant shore.

No one heard Lena's screams of rage and loss.

Or so she thought.

" _Excuse me. May I speak with the warrior, Leaf-Eye?_ "

Lena was shaken from her memories as her adopted kin quieted around her. They were startled to find the younger princess at the edge of their encampment, clearly telegraphing her nerves by worrying something in her hands. She was a pale beauty, her sunshine hair and sky eyes stark contrast to the desert-dark people. It had been a lifetime since Lena had been close to someone with such coloring and she could not stop her stare. Though by the widening of those blue eyes, the fascination was mutual. 

" _I am Leaf-Eye_ ," Lena finally remembered to say, but did not move from Storm's side. The mare was tense and over-alert, but Lena honestly could not tell if it was battle high or their completely foreign surroundings. Then again, the princess looked utterly unnerved and Lena honestly could not tell if it was the horses or herself.

Around them, horses were only being allowed a few mouthfuls of sweet grass before being muzzled. Such rich food would only make them terribly ill. Water was distributed around amid kin of two and four feet and light lean-tos struck to the soft earth. The thin early spring sunshine was a pittance of heat to what the Southerners were used to, but so many prying eyes were unnerving.

Amidst the movement and quietly controlled chaos, Kara stepped forward to where Lena had finally begun stripping Ravens-Storm of her armor and finery. It was definitely her that unnerved Storm, interesting.

" _May I help?_ "

Even with a quaver of fearful nerves in her voice, the younger princess had volunteered and Lena admired the effort. Something about her shy willingness was enticing, though her nervous sunshine was not half so intriguing as her warrior sister.

"Of course," Lena agreed in her native tongue and was rewarded with a beautiful smile. "Storm here can behave herself."

With a few words of encouragement and direction, Lena walked Kara through the mysteries of some of the foreign tack and silks ranged about Ravens-Storm's body. The glossy reptilian armor fascinated Kara and she ran her hands over it, fingers bumping over its contours.

" _Crocodile_ ," Lena explained and Kara only cocked her head curiously. "These lands have nothing like them. Lizards the size of a horse and twice as long with hinge-trap jaws of pure death that stealth hunt from beneath the water. They are terrors but make for excellent eating when they can be caught. The closest thing any Southerner has seen to a Dragon!" Wanting to reassure the look of panic on Kara's face, Lena smiled. "I was forever fascinated by the Ancient Ones as a child, no matter my family's famous fear of them." Dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, she leaned a bit closer. "I would leave cookies on my windowsill in hopes to entice one close. But I suspect the mice were merely fattened."

Kara couldn't stop the little bubble of giggle that escaped her from the story. This woman hardly seemed the final link in the chain of her mad family.

Perhaps she wasn't part of that madness at all. If there was one thing Kara was good at, it was knowing that her pull towards certain people was no accident. The powerful magics she carried like a hot ember whispered to her, but faded as a familiar bellow sounded from the stables.

"Kara! You've an errand!"

Sheepishly, Kara left off her stroking of the crocodile hide and quirked a grin at Lena. "My teacher in all things of horse and war." Slipping into a more formal stance and tone, Kara continued. "Would you do our House the honor of joining us for the afternoon? Please feel free to bring along a few of your close kinsfolk should they wish. And there will be a feast tonight where everyone will be welcome."

The invitation was no surprise, but Lena was nervous nonetheless. No matter that she had been preparing for years for this day, turning practice into practical application was no simple thing.

"Of course, Highness. A moment please?"

Nodding, Kara went to the diplomatic envoy, James, who was clearly pleased to see her. Before Lena could even ask, Jess appeared at her side as she always did, quiet and attuned to her. They had been adopted only a season apart by the desert folk, learned side by side and were rarely apart. 

Without a word, they quickly unbuckled the black armor, but Jess paused as she watched Lena stare down at the coat of arms worn so brazenly across her chest and belly.

" _Stop dithering, Mouselings!_ " boomed through the small camp and both young women jumped reflexively. A handful of years their elder, Far-Eye had been their caretaker and mentor since they were gawky children, lost and afraid in the jaws of the desert. No matter that none of them were blood, they had become sisters of heart. " _You've a victory to celebrate and a peoples to learn anew. Come!_ "

Before Lena could object, Jess was wrestling her hardened leather bracers on, expertly yanking them snug. In concert to that manhandling, Far-Eye put dexterous hands to the tattered remains of her battle silks, and they were quickly and expertly knot-woven into something almost presentable. Hints of the Luthor coat of arms peeked through, blended with the bright colors of her third family. Belting on the smaller scimitar she carried with her on the day to day, her several pouches containing necessaries and a utilitarian dagger brought from these Northern lands years ago, Lena stumbled towards the distinctive banner of Kara's pale hair, but paused. 

" _Well, come on then!_ " she urged her sisters, who grabbed their things and followed. Without waiting for introductions, Kara led the way back to the stables, moving past the stalls at a brisk pace. Far-Eye gazed longingly at the big Northern beasts, curious about them, but kept up with her little sisters and their quiet guide.

Through a set of elaborate doors was a glorious tack room full of all manner of horse gear from simple bits to full suits of war plate that gleamed like jewelry. Voices drifted out from an open door, the elder princess and the deep-voiced male who had bellowed earlier.

"You should have that arm in a sling, Alex."

"And give my mother more reasons to fret? I think not. With Coronation Day so close, and this burning need to have me married off, I'm ready to make a break for the hills as it is."

"She only worries for you out of love and duty."

"I'm aware, but it does little to make me feel less suffocated."

A hiss of pain carried through the air as Lena rounded the doorframe at Kara's heels to see the big man with the coloring of the most southern of her adopted peoples holding up a snowy white shirt that Alex was half lost in. She was moving stiffly, darkening bruises peeking around the edges of her brief chemise and the clean bandages on her left shoulder and chest.

Lena stared silently as the shirt settled around Alex's whipcord lean, muscled body and broad shoulders. No matter that beautiful face or the soft curve of breast, this young woman was clearly all warrior in a effortlessly natural way that Lena was not. Oh, she had learned to be a warrior to be sure, but it sat on her heavily.

After a few moments and a surprisingly engaging giggle, Alex finally emerged from the depths of the loose shirt to look faintly taken aback at her company. For a moment she looked alert and wary, before bursting into a warm grin. The Soulstone bonded to her flared from an aloof purple to a warm golden yellow, the shade as welcome as sunlight after a storm.

Lena was helpless to stop the smile that tilted her serious mouth into a softer shape.

"There she is, our surprise champion!" Alex enthused as she stood to greet her guests. Seeing how the green eyes flickered down to her left shoulder, she gently tapped the bandages wound over the place where the lance had first struck.

"Don't look so alarmed, it was a magnificent hit! The dent merely left a crack behind that sawed its way through my doublet to my skin. Where did you learn to joust like that?"

It struck Lena like a blow in that moment to realize… that Alex was unaware of their connection.

For nearly eighteen years, Lena had not been alone in her head, in her soul. It was no matter to the magical connection that the one she was connected to was unobtainably far away, a tether to a life left behind and one she knew she must return to once again.

It never occurred to her that her soulmate, the one she longed for with all the magics in her… would not know her back. The Soulstone bound to her ached like the deep kiss of a blade. She didn't need to see the black and blue of her stone to feel it like the bruise it must resemble. 

Lena swallowed hard and spoke quietly to cover the ache in her tone. "Endless hours of practice with grass dummies and half-willing kinsfolk with no talent such as yours. Good fortune was mine with your exhaustion, Highness."

Stiffly sliding into an elaborate, warm coat held open by the big man at arms, Alex flashed Kara a smile when she moved to get the laces and buckles.

"You've a natural talent. I don't think I've ever had someone read me so effectively, even you, J'onn!"

The big man had been staring intently at Lena and there was no mistaking the way his gaze dropped to her sternum, that hard plate of bone where her ribs locked together, where her Soulstone pulsed with power and emotion…

"A natural talent indeed," he said thoughtfully and Lena knew that he had seen in her things that she was accustomed to having as her own confidence. It was nerve-wracking. 

Particularly as Kara kept looking at her that same way, though with less of that quiet menace.

"Regardless," Alex spoke on, seeming to be unaware of the sudden tensions around her, "your win was decisive and a good reminder to me to forgo arrogance."

Abruptly chuckling, Alex stood with some stiffness and gave her sister an affectionate shove. Which did nothing to move her, always a clear indication of stress.

"Enough with the posturing you two, please. These people are our guests."

With an easy arrogance, Alex stepped over on quiet, bare feet, her expression open and curious, her Stone reflecting that in orange with a touch of purple. Somehow, like this, freshly scrubbed with hair damp and wavy, her smile crooked and expression unguarded, Lena was struck with something.

"What is it?" Alex asked softly and the answer fell from Lena's mouth, unbidden.

" _I didn't know you would be so beautiful…_ "

Even as she flushed self-consciously, there were chuckles from her sisters and faintly startled looks from Kara and the man, J'onn. Too embarrassed to explain, Lena instead gestured to her companions.

"My sisters, Far-Eye and Close-Eye."

They each willingly stepped over to clasp hands with the royal Heir, murmuring greetings with their smattering of knowledge of the Northern tongue. Alex was clearly fascinated by the trio of them and turned that smile on Lena once again. "I can hardly wait to hear your story, Duchess, but in the meantime, there is a Faire!"

That royal title, long shed, was another blow to Lena's composure and her sisters crowded close as Alex moved off to tend to shoes.

" _What is it?_ "

How could she answer Close-Eye's question? The Tribes of the Furnace Sands had no Soul Stones, no physical tokens of ancient bonds with the lost Dragons. Even in her faded memories of a childhood in these lands, Lena recalled no stories of the sacred talismans being quite so… interactive.

And whereas such a mystery would normally fascinate the child of two worlds, now she merely ached.

Kara and Alex bickered affectionately over the matter of shoes, J'onn shooing away the younger to change while he knelt to tend to his royal charge. Lena took that as an opportunity to escape back to the magnificent tack room and try and gather herself. Naturally, Far-Eye and Jess followed her. They said nothing, knowing that Lena would only speak her mind if she chose. After a long moment of tension, calloused hands flexing open and closed as though fighting an invisible battle, Lena finally turned at looked at them, eyes awash like an oasis after rain.

" _She doesn't know me_ ," she breathed out in agony. " _After all this time, the endless leagues of travels… she doesn't know me_."

Breathing deeply for strength, Lena fought for words. How did she put such a thing to mere words? Straightening her spine, she shook off the pain as she had done against other blows against her.

" _I will not force this upon another. I won my boon and we will leave for my ancestral lands come morning. I have no idea what I hope to accomplish with this task, but I can at least set to rights what I can._ "

Jess looked somewhat helpless while Far-Eye merely watched Lena flatly in that particular way that only older sisters seemed capable of when their siblings were being particularly stupid. 

" _She wears her Dragon Stone on her brow_ ," Far-Eye mused thoughtfully. " _Perhaps not so reckless a heart as yours, little sister?_ "

Oh, how Lena wanted to resent her adopted sister and her pointed words, but she was always the wise one who saw things more clearly than most. Her name was well earned.

Still, Lena was too shaken to take the words clearly, her overactive heart feeling like a bleeding wound that made her burn and her verdant eyes water like a stinging rain. They were not a demonstrative people, but nonetheless, Far-Eye drew her sisters close to be held as she had done since they were mostly-grown children torn away from everything they had once known.

" _The desert brought you to me_ ," Far-Eye murmured against their dark heads like a benediction. " _and I will always watch over you_."

Kara listened in fascination where she hovered just out of sight. The stone wall was no impediment to her senses and she watched their huddle like a ghostly image through the barrier, their bones glowing brightly beneath their flesh. Abruptly, Far-Eye crouched to grip her sisters to her, standing with their combined weight to dangle for a moment.

" _Meanwhile, we've a faire to attend and a princess to entice! Lead on,_ Duchess!"

" _Far…_ " Lena implored helplessly even as she knew it was hopeless. Once her sister had a target, she was as implacable as a sandstorm and twice as fierce. 

Kara felt as though she could approach at that point, coming tentatively around the corner of the doorway and helplessly echoing Far-Eyes' welcoming smile. A smile that faltered as Alex joined them, Lena's breath catching. For a young woman so sweet and pretty of face, the royal Heir cut a handsome figure in the finely made coat and breeches. The natural color of the wool and linen had been trimmed in strong blues, red and yellow accents and a hint of gold thread. There was no formality to her loose, wild curls that spilled over her ears and forehead, shielding and calling attention to her circlet and the Soulstone. Her wide smile was a mischievous enticement that even Far and Close could not help but respond to.

"Let the Kingdom of Danvers show you a good time!"

Lena was caught all over again, not moving until she was shoved between the shoulders to get her unstuck.

In the riot of color and noise and smells that was the heart of the kingdom at its celebratory best, there was little the visitors could to do but gawk. They stuck to the royal sisters as would a foal to its mother, Far and Jess relying on the others to translate and rapidly adapting to the words they had heard from Lena over the years. For her part, Lena was drawn to and yet repulsed by the charismatic stranger she was bound to. Thankfully, Kara seemed willing enough to be a buffer between them and Lena was ever so grateful. 

When quizzed about how she remained uncomfortable, Lena scrambled for an answer. Settling on a partial truth, she shrugged and did her best to deflect. "I'm not accustomed to having my face uncovered, to fitting in…"

With sky blue eyes full of sympathy, Kara curled her hand around Lena's arm and she was grateful for the small, accepting intimacy.

Just wandering about the faire was adventure enough, but there was so much more to do. There were games, many of the vendors shooing away the laughing royal sisters with varying levels of vehemence. Though a few did allow the young women to play. Unsurprisingly, they were experts at the puzzles and targets, goading one another and gently encouraging shy children to play. Far and Lena stayed out of it, but Jess won herself a playful little trinket handily. 

There were merchants of all manner from stinking livestock to glorious finery for both the current coolness in the air and for the warm months at their doorstep. When Kara spotted Jess staring longingly at a rainbow of ladies warm cloaks, they fell into a rapid discussion that ended with smiles and their warm cloaks exchanged to the pleasure of both parties. 

" _Feel how soft it is,_ " Jess marveled as she fondled her new acquisition. " _I had no idea wool could be spun so fine._ "

" _Of course not_ ," Far scoffed, but a smile danced in the corner of her mouth. " _Our goats are good only for meat and milk and hide! Speaking of meat…_ "

One didn't need to speak the language to understand that eager scenting in the air.

" _The feast will be soon,_ " Kara offered, but still handed over several coins for a stack of small hand pies. " _But this will tide you over, I hope._ "

It was with a mouthful of warm meat and potatoes in its bready crust that reminded Lean painfully of the home she had been driven from, when she finally took note of the passing attentions being paid her all day. The whispers and stares, once noticed, were impossible to ignore. The comforting food turned to ash in her mouth and lead in her belly.

"I think I would like to go back to our camp."

The words surprised the royal sisters, blinking as they paused in decimating their snack. For a moment, they were not royalty, but adolescents near adulthood, dressed in finery that seemed ill-fitting to cheeks full of food and crumbs on their faces.

They were impossibly endearing. 

Swallowing most of her mouthful, Alex stared quizzically at her guest, her Stone whirling with emotions. "You're uncomfortable."

Oh how Lena wanted to lie, to deflect, but frankly, she could barely look at Alex, much less lie to her. So she settled for most of the truth. "I think no one could possibly be ready for my being back in these lands, Highness."

That ache was back in her throat once more, yet she couldn't help but smile at the fierce look Alex fired around as a Dragon would breathe flame. The stares and whispers faded in an instant, but Lena could not shake the sensation of them, lingering on her skin and soul.

Curse her Soulstone for dragging her back here to suffer all the more.

Awkward now, the group made their way back to where the Horse People remained a source of attention from the populace. But there was a final torment for Lena to bear, when the strains of music caught their collective ears and slowed their steps. Bad enough that the cadences stirred more fuzzy memories, but then… then the sisters began to sing. Alex was a sweet, clear soprano with none of the weakness that could come with such a voice, Kara a lower, brassy contrast.

It was a torment that strained Lena's soul and she could not even hum along for the ache in her throat.

The familiar banners of the quiet people who had taken her in at the desert's behest was a relief. Lena was so ready to fade back into them, to belong in a way she no longer did in the lands of her birth. But a hand on her wrist stopped her, sent a shock of awareness through her just as it had when she won her boon and they had grasped hands.

"Will I see you at the feast?"

For a long moment, Lena wanted with all her heart to refuse, to run from being sucked on any deeper into this quicksand of conflicting emotions. But only a glance into those beseeching brown eyes, the color of the richest earth that would grow the most glorious greens, and Lena was lost.

"Yes."

Whatever she asked, it would be yes.


End file.
